


Action is Eloquence

by moonstone1520



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluffy Ending, Romantic Fluff, Shakespeare Quotations, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7143539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstone1520/pseuds/moonstone1520
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly is postulating a theory about Shakespeare and wants Sherlock's input.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Action is Eloquence

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly cracky. We're doing Shakespeare monologues in class right now and the line "Stop my mouth" from _Measure for Measure_ inspired this fluffy bit of crack. See end notes for the plays referenced.

“Sherlock, I know you have no use for astronomy—”

“Oh God, not that again,” Sherlock complained, looking up from his microscope. His blue-green eyes met Molly’s brown ones in annoyance. “I’ve told John once, I’ve told him multiple times. I delete anything that isn’t useful. Astronomy is not useful. Oh, yes, knowledge of the solar system would have been useful in the case of the fake painting, but otherwise, there is absolutely no reason for me to keep that information locked up in my head.”

Molly sat and stared at him. “Are you quite finished?” she asked, her tone bored. Sherlock looked taken aback by her reaction. He cleared his throat.

“Erm… yes,” he replied, quickly turning back to his microscope, and missing Molly’s quiet smile.

“As I was saying,” she began, pointedly, returning to the charts she was marking, “I know you have no use for astronomy, but how do you feel about Shakespeare?”

“I admire that he introduced a multitude of commonly used words and phrases into the English language and that his works are performed the world over. However, I find his humor ribald and some of his prose too flowery. But I do appreciate it when I come across it,” he begrudged. He glanced up from his microscope. “Why?”

Molly shrugged. “A theory I’m working on,” she stated.

Sherlock’s interest piqued. “Oh? What sort of theory?”

Molly flushed at his interest. “I think that everyone in the world has a favorite line of Shakespeare, whether they realize it or not. For instance,” she started, her eyes lighting up with excitement, “Lestrade’s is ‘cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war’ from—”

“ _Julius Caesar_ , act three, scene one. Makes sense considering his profession, though I strongly suspect his attachment to the phrase is more sentimental, ‘sounds good’ and is now firmly entrenched in the vernacular than because he truly understands the meaning behind it,” Sherlock rattled off. “Doubtful also that he realized its origin was Shakespearean.” He looked at Molly expectantly. She stared back, astonished.

“Um, well, yes, um, and Anderson’s is—”

“Boring,” Sherlock interrupted. “Next?”

Molly glared at him, flustered. “Well, um, I asked John, and he said that he had two, that they change, depending on the day. ‘I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety’ from _Henry V_ —,”

“Makes sense given his past career in the military, his wife’s chosen profession and the fact that he chooses to dally about on cases with me,” Sherlock mused.

“But now,” Molly continued, “it’s ‘I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is that not strange?’ from _Much Ado_.”

“His recent reconciliation with Mary plays into that,” he replied. “And he _would_ like a line by Benedick, considering how he identifies most with that character being tricked into confessing his love for Beatrice. He sees parallels in his marriage to Mary.”

Molly smiled at the jab. “Mary’s is ‘Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall’ from _Measure for Measure_.” She waited for Sherlock to elaborate on this, but he remained silent and returned to the microscope, making a point of ending the conversation. Her smiled faded and her voice became unsure as she spoke. “So, I simply wondered if you had a favorite, that’s all. To help me confirm my theory…” She watched him for a moment, hoping he would volunteer something. When he continued to pointedly stare into the scope, she inched away and returned to her charts, her demeanor crestfallen.

“Right then. I’m going to go finished these up on my computer. You’ll put everything away won’t you, when you’ve finished?” Molly looked up from her paperwork when she heard him muttering. “Sherlock?”

He stopped his murmuring. Then he began speaking aloud, leaving the scope and turning his body to face her.

“‘What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason? How infinite in faculties? In form and moving, how express and admirable? In action, how like an angel? In apprehension, how like a god? The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals; and yet to me, what is the quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor Woman neither; though by your smiling you seem to say so.’ _Hamlet_ , act two, scene two,” he finishes quietly.

Molly watched him. “I think you appreciate Shakespeare more than you want to think you do,” she said softly. “Thank you, Sherlock.” She gathered her things and began to walk to her office. His voice stopped her, however.

“What’s yours?”

Molly turned to face him. “What?”

He stood and approached her. “What’s yours? You have a tattoo of ’Though she be but little, she is fierce’ on your ribcage, but that’s a reminder of your ambition and to stand up for yourself, not truly your favorite.”

Molly straightened. “How did you know… never mind. I should know better than to ask—”

“Mary showed me your Instagram page,” Sherlock smirked.

Molly flushed deeper and closed her eyes in mortification. _I’m going to kill her, so help me God_ , she thought.

“But what is your favorite line?” he repeated. Molly opened her eyes and met his, unflinching. “It would be something more whimsical or sentimental. Not to say that the little and fierce one doesn’t suit you—it does. But you are a true romantic. You would choose something tender, something you identify with. Something that touches your heart.” His tone had lowered to a rumble. Molly felt her knees weakening, but she held firm, her resolve strengthening in the face of… whatever was currently swirling around them.

“’I burn, I pine, I perish’,” she whispered.

His eyes widened. Molly waited for a response to her bold declaration, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.  She’d given voice to how she felt about him and her hopes ebbed away swiftly the longer he stood there buffering.

“I postulate your theory is correct then,” he finally said. “Mycroft’s is ‘Lord, what fools these mortals be!’ Ironic, given the character that says the line.” His eyes never left hers and she watched his pupils dilate as he continued talking.

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Shall I stop your mouth?” she grinned.

He smiled back. “’Action is eloquence’,” he replied. And at that, she reached up and met her lips to his in a gentle kiss, reminding herself to thank Mary later for the idea.

**Author's Note:**

> "Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war" ~ Julius Caesar, III.i  
> "I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety" ~ Henry V, III.ii  
> "I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is that not strange?" ~ Much Ado About Nothing, IV.i  
> "Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall" ~ Measure for Measure, II.i  
> "What a piece of work is man! How noble..." ~ Hamlet, II.ii  
> "Though she be but little, she is fierce" ~ A Midsummer's Night Dream, III.ii  
> "I burn, I pine, I perish" ~ The Taming of the Shrew, I.i  
> "Lord, what Fools these mortals be!" ~ A Midsummer's Night Dream, III.ii  
> "Action is eloquence" ~ Coriolanus, III.ii


End file.
